


(Victoria's) Secret

by lucdarling



Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Crossdressing, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Lingerie, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have an errand to run and maybe it will be easier dressed like this. It’s an acceptable reason for your confusion over the choices of fabric, frills and lace, never mind the different cuts and myriad of colors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Victoria's) Secret

**Author's Note:**

You head in, choking slightly on the noxious perfume that’s sprayed on every mannequin you have to pass. Hands stuffed in the pockets of your jeans, you sidestep the sales rep with a terse smile and head towards the back sale table. There’s a lot of pink on markdown, it being the week after Valentine’s. Most of it has overlarge bows which you could really do without but your hand drifts towards a scrap of light pink lace that you think would suit the femme days. There’s another man standing over the table, blunt fingers gently touching the different materials.

The man holds up a bright pink bra with a snicker. “He’d kill me.” He murmurs to himself and you can’t stop your eyes from flickering over when you hear. Bright blue eyes catch your own and you cut your eyes back to the table.

“You got a girl in mind?” He questions softly, nodding his head at the panties you still hold. The lace in your palm itches with the too-tight grip and you drop them hastily.

“No, just me.” You answer, voice coming out a little rough because there’s always a chance about the other person’s reaction, the fear that pools in your stomach waiting for their next words, their actions. Your legs tense, ready to run because the guy isn’t six foot but he has arms that would have no trouble snapping your skinny self in half with ease. He makes a noise (you don’t dare look up, not now that you’ve admitted the truth.) and the matching bra for the pink lace lands in front of you.

“That’s cool too,” the man says. “Now what do you think about a darker pink with my skin tone? I prefer purple to be honest but all there is now is this romantic shtick and pink hearts on everything, like I didn’t get enough jokes at work...” He holds up a dark pink bra with a delicate lace edging and you smile.

You and the man (his name is Clint and his partner sounds like a dream come true, he is judging by the soft smile that crosses Clint’s face anytime he mentions the words _my partner_ ) spend the rest of the hour moving from sales table to hanging rack, picking out colors that suit each other. It’s comforting and calming and you go to bed that night, pleased and smiling at the brief connection with someone who understands.


End file.
